Sometimes there's a seamstress sewing in my head
Quilting batted blankets of existential dread
Comforters and covers cover all of our cold dead
They're neatly surged and finished in copper linen thread

I've learnt to know dread like I've learnt to break bread,
For fear, it's unsaid, cause kids go unfed,
cops are mislead about the bloodshed, lay dead, not a sound skinhead.

I've learnt to be on my own, like I've learnt to hate your throne,
I'd think I was made of stone for not the broken bones. No numbers in my phone, I walk into the unknown, no fear for I am alone.

I've learnt to know pain like I've learnt to love rain,
Cause it hurts to wash stains of the blood from split veins, but the burn from thin canes won't keep me in chains. Still sane,
this is the end of your reign.

I can hear him knocking at the door
I feel the rhythm of the beating in my chest and head.

It overwhelms me, bleeding down into my core,
my heartstrings hanging by a single thread.

I cannot handle your lingering presence anymore.

I am exhausted from a constant state of dread;
an endless game of tug of war
contemplating all of the things I’ve left unsaid.

Compiling a collection of unfinished memoirs
abandoned and stranded in my mind instead.

He is here, choosing which wounds to reopen into deeper sores
I lay awaiting the temporary passage of this bloodshed.

.
1

The scharrds rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2

I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3

Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.
.

Empty…by Jessie 12/05

Empty stare on an empty face
The morning sun on an empty vase
Empty voice when saying grace
Fingerprints that leave no trace

Empty well on an empty farm
No town near by to be alarmed
Empty suitcase, tucked beneath an arm
Empty hate that brings no harm

Empty thoughts in an empty head
Terrified you might be dead
Empty belly, the weight of lead
Empty days for all to dread

Empty heart in an empty chest
Family flag that has no crest
Empty bed, that provides no rest
Empty answers on all life’s tests

Dreams of dawn keep waking me,
I'm going on another spree,
of taking a path that's not worn down,
I've been faking the math and turning it around.

I don't want to go, but I know, that life is so.
I don't want to go, with the flow, they move too slow.

Dreams of dawn keep waking me,
with a yawn and shaking constantly.
Feeling ill and dreading the sun,
so I'll take a pill but it's not the only one.

I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, the wind's can blow, I'll hide from the snow.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want go, I'm feeling low, I'm no swan but a crow.

Dreams of dawn are waking me,
I'll be a pawn along with society.
Too much work for too little of pay,
my knees will **** but my feet will stay.

I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, I'll never grow, if this world's a foe.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, march in a row, and feel the tow.
I don't want to go, but I know, life is so.
I don't want to go, don't make me, no, there won't be a show.

The feeling of no hope.
Just wishful distress.

Trapped in silence, burdened by loud thoughts I hesitate to express.

Suffer in silence a friend once said.
Verbalized then cauterized with dread.

I want to be free.
But these chains bring me to my knees.

In the mirror someone new stands.
Broken compared to the man beforehand.

and suddenly time stops
after weeks and weeks of moving too fast
the stillness makes my head spin
or maybe you make my head spin
because there you are
a friend of a friend
standing in the living room
had it been my living room
i'd have asked you to leave
our history was crashing around
inside of my skull
a ricocheting bullet i didn't know how to stop
as it were
all i could do was stand there
statue still in the doorway
frozen in time
your silhouette blurred against
the afternoon sunlight streaming in
through the window
and i stared for moment after long moment
wanting
wishing
needing you to be someone else
and just like in all my bad dreams
when i scrounged up the courage to greet you
your face fell into an expressionless mask
our eyes barely met
your irises the same shade
as the coffee that holds my eyes open every morning
and nothing fell from your mouth
i tried hard not to feel anything
i know you were as terrified as me